Sugar High
by Katertots
Summary: Steve broods after missions; Darcy's sick of it. Fluff. Established relationship.


The timer above the stove beeps and Darcy puts on her red polka dot oven mitts to pull the carrot cake out of the oven before it burns. She tests it with a toothpick and smiles when it comes out clean. "Perfect," she says, setting the pan on the rack to cool. It's Steve's favorite dessert and she's making a nice dinner in hopes they can have a nice evening together.

The door to their apartment opens and she hears his heavy footsteps on the hardwood. Steve slams the door so hard behind him it rattles and Darcy sighs, her hopes of a pleasant dinner flying out the window. She makes a mental note to bake cupcakes for the neighbors as an apology. Again. He's typically grumpy after a bad mission, but she's surprised any of the doors in their place are still on the hinges after this one.

Darcy loves Steve, more than anything, and she understands that he needs his time and space to decompress after a mission, to work through whatever demons he carries around from not living up to the impossibly high standards he sets for himself, but enough is enough. It's been going on for three days and she'd like her fiancé to quit being a moody asshole while he's at home. Darcy opens the fridge to get out bricks of cream cheese to make the icing and grabs a bottle of water for Steve while she's at it. He's standing at the small island in the center of the kitchen when she turns around, shirt soaked with sweat and a hangdog look on his face. She tosses him the bottle, purposely throwing wide right so he has to lunge for it. Well, would have had to lunge for it if he wasn't so huge and their kitchen so small. He catches it effortlessly and grumbles what she thinks is _thank you_. "What was that, mumble mouth?"

"I said thank you," he answers curtly. Sighing, he rubs his forehead and his expression softens. "M'sorry, Darce."

"Okay," she shrugs and turns to get the other ingredients out of the cabinet.

"Gonna go shower," he says and walks away.

"See if you can dislodge that gigantic stick from your ass while you're in there," she mutters.

"I heard that," he calls from the hall.

"I wanted you to," she yells back. Sighing, she opens up the fridge again and gets a beer. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

* * *

Steve comes back in after a while, just as she's putting the pork chops in the oven, and leans against the island. Darcy looks at him warily and reaches for her beer. He stares back, hands resting on the countertop, and she waits for him to say something—_anything. _When he doesn't, she arches a brow, content to stare him down until he caves. It's a skill, one he enjoys teasing her about, saying S.H.I.E.L.D. should hire her as a special interrogator to get the tough nut criminals to crack. Steve finally shrinks under her gaze and looks away. She smirks at him and lifts the bottle to her lips. "Is that carrot cake?" he asks hopefully.

"Bitch, it might be."

Steve groans and rolls his eyes. "I wish you and Bucky would stop saying that all the time. It's getting old."

Darcy grins over the top of her beer. "It'll never be as old as you," she sasses. Steve scowls at her, clearly not impressed with her shenanigans. Well, too damn bad—she's fucking had it with his shitty mood. She rolls her eyes at him, forcefully setting her beer bottle down. There's an open bag of powdered sugar on the counter she used for the icing; she grabs a handful and throws it in his face. "Lighten up, Captain Dickhead!"

Steve sputters, a cloud of sugar floating through the air, his thick lashes dusted in white as he slowly blinks it out of his eyes. Darcy barks out a laugh and slaps a hand over her mouth; she can't believe she just did that. There's a firm set to his jaw as he stares back at her, nose twitching around like a bunny rabbit's. It's adorable and hilarious; she giggles behind her hand. Finally his left eyebrow arches up and he reaches for the bag of sugar.

Her laughter fades away and she shakes her head. "Oh no, Steven Grant! Don't you dare!" She takes a step back, ready to dart out of the kitchen, when she's hit with a face full of powdered sugar. "Steve!" she squeals, wiping her eyes. She hears the low rumble of his laughter and sees Steve grinning and holding up the bag of sugar. Steve grabs another handful and drops it on top of her head, rubbing it into her hair with the palm of his hand. Darcy squeals again, swatting at his chest, making him laugh even harder. "Quit it!"

"You started it, sweetheart."

He steps closer, the bag still in his hand, and Darcy takes an automatic step back. There's a boyish smile on his face as they slowly circle around the kitchen island and each other, and it makes her happy to see him finally loosening up and getting back to normal. "Your puppy dog eyes and Boy Scout grin aren't fooling me, Rogers."

Steve smirks wickedly. "Good." He moves quickly and snags her around the waist before Darcy can even think which way to move and lifts her off her feet. "You look like you could use more, baby doll," he chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest. Steve dumps the rest of the bag down her V-neck t-shirt.

"You ass!" Darcy crows, slugging him on the shoulder. Steve laughs again and wraps his other arm around her. He looks ridiculous with powdered sugar in his hair and all over his face, so she can only imagine her appearance; but he's relaxed and that haunted look he gets in his eyes sometimes is gone, and that's all that matters. She loops her arms around his neck and smiles softly. "Hi," she murmurs, carding her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"Hi," he says thickly and leans in to kiss her. It's soft and slow and warm, sticky and sweet from the sugar on their lips. Steve is back and she feels it all the way to the tips of her toes when he sips at her mouth. He pulls back and sets her on the counter, his hands gently cupping her face. "I'm so sorry. I've been an unbearable dick this week."

Darcy runs her fingers through his hair and gives him another lingering kiss. "I forgive you," she says against his lips.

Steve sighs and she can feel the tension draining out of his shoulders when he pulls her closer, broad hands spanning low on her back, and drops his forehead to hers. "I love you," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling against her wet lips.

"I love you back." Darcy trails her fingers down his chest, peppering kissing over his jaw, licking the sugar off his skin. "Want to show me how much you love me?" she purrs.

Steve's hands slide down to her ass, pulling her forward to the edge of the counter. "So much."

Darcy tips her head back to look into his eyes, smirking when he gives her a warm smile. "Good. You can clean up this mess!"


End file.
